Rather than do as the necromancer asked, Skulduggery chose to continue backing towards the door, acutely aware that his current inability to manipulate either air or water was very much working against him right now. "Your bed," he pointed out, "is nowhere near as sacred as any of my suits. Water disappears when it drys. Paint becomes a hazardous substance of noxious fumes impossible to remove when it drys. Your exhaustion is making you delirious. Perhaps you should get back into bed."

It occurred to him that pointing out precisely how paint would affect his suit might not be the most persuasive of arguments to make to a man determined to ruin said suit, but Skulduggery couldn't really bring himself to care. Wreath may not have noticed all of the changes in his demeanour, but Skulduggery certainly did. As always, many of his best ideas seemed to come from horrifically bad ones.